Fox is home!!

Daddy, Boba, and I are THRILLED to finally have him come home.  He's adapting nicely, and of course, we know that the real work begins now.  And we are so grateful to start down on this road, as difficult as it can be.  He is healthy, happy, and very very precious.  Thanks to everyone for showing such amazing support in the last two weeks.  Drop us a line and come visit so you can finally meet Fox!

On the up-and-up

I'd like to start off this post by quoting one of the fabulous nurses at the Sharp Mary Birch NICU:

"[Fox] read the manual on how to go home.  He is READY!"

And so he is.  In a nutshell, Fox has been doing great with his recovery.  A day after his surgery, the doctors removed the tube from his throat and started him on regular feeds; i.e., breastmilk through a bottle.  They've upped the volume of his feeds steadily, and now he is feeding like any other baby - and the best part is, he's passing his food like a healthy baby!  So all systems are go!

He's not home yet, so continue to keep him in your thoughts and prayers...but we're all hopeful that he'll be released from the NICU in a couple of days.  Today he "graduated" to the other side of the NICU (the side where the healthier babies stay), and he has been breastfeeding like a champ.  Things are looking good.

I'm going to leave it at that for now and let you all enjoy the fabulous pictures.  We'll keep you posted about his homecoming.  Stay tuned!

More Drama

Well, no one says our lives are simple.

Sorry to traumatize regular readers twice in four posts, but we have another scary story.  Cause we like a little pathos in our household!

No need to skip to the end - I'll tell you it all comes out okay.

By the way, this is another Daddy post.  Mommy is bathing Boba at the moment.

A side note: Boba has been fabulous.  True, she hasn't really had to share Mommy & Daddy yet,

 but she has been an angel lately.   Note here, how she uses Mommy's breast pumps as a megaphone. 

She's really been an angel, as we've waited for Fox to come home...

...a little later than we expected...

...sigh...

So, when last we left Fox, he was bonding with family and enjoying being held by everybody.

The first 24 hours post birth proceeded pretty much as usual, except we noticed that Fox wasn't pooping and that, other than one brief latch in the recovery room, he wasn't showing any real interest in eating.  No one seemed too concerned as C-section babies often feel "full" the first day as they haven't been squeezed through a birth canal.

But, after we passed the 24-hour mark, they started paying a lot more attention, and by hour 32 or so, they decided to move Fox to the NICU, so they could monitor his systems.  It was very clear at this point that something was not functioning in the digestive system.  Now, I should stress that at no point in the process was there ever a sense of immediate danger.  Even as things unfolded, it was always in a controlled, non-urgent fashion.  Bless the hospital staff for always coming across as calm and assured.  It went a long way toward easing our anxiety.

After monitoring him overnight on Saturday, they took Fox over to the Children's Hospital on Sunday morning for a contrast enema.  They basically watched as they injected some fluids up the back door and looked for where the problem might be.

They quickly diagnosed Hirschsprung's Disease, which is when the last portion of the large intestine does not have the cells to move waste through the system.  They informed us that they would be doing a "pull through", where they would remove the damaged portion and reattach the healthy portion to the anus. Helpful link.

Final diagnosis would not occur until the beginning of the surgery, when they would take a biopsy for confirmation.  In most cases, the surgery is successful and the baby will regain "normalcy".

They also informed us it probably wouldn't happen for several days, probably Wednesday (which ended up being accurate).  So, the good news was that they thought they knew what it was and they were confident they could fix it.  The bad news is that we had to wait and wait and wait without being able to DO anything.  Very frustrating for a parent, especially when you're looking at your little guy with an IV and a tube running down his throat.

Pardon the graininess of some of these pix.  They were taken with my phone.

One of the blessings of the waiting days: he slept all the time!  If you think about it, most newborns, if they didn't have to wake up to eat or poop or pee, would just sleep and sleep and sleep.  And that's what Fox did.  Every now and then, he would peek open his eyes and gaze around dazedly.  But then, he'd drop back off.  Mommy and I visited the NICU several times a day (even after Mommy was discharged) and held him, wires and all in the very convenient, provided Lazy Boy recliners.  Maybe a few tears.  But mostly, just savoring the time we had.

Today, we showed up a few hours early and then started almost 90 minutes late.  So, it may have made the wait seem longer than it was.  Mommy and Daddy followed as Fox was led through the labryinth of tunnels, elevators and corridors that connect Sharp Mary Birch to

 Sharp Memorial to Rade Children's Hospital.  Mommy was in a wheelchair, thankfully, cause it really was a trek.  Fox was in a little mini-hospital, with tubes and monitors and a glass cage, all being wheeled along at top speed.

The (wonderful) doctor explained everything to us and we headed to the waiting room.  All told, the procedure took a little over three and a half hours (much of that time was spent sending cell samples to be analyzed looking for the point where dead cells gave way to healthy ones).  Mommy and Daddy took turns hitting the cafeteria, surfing the internet and reading Newsweek.

In one of those few times where you don't mind life being anti-climactic, they came out and told us everything went smoothly.  No surprises or complications.  As soon as the intestine was reconnected, waste started flowing out.  We walked back with him in his glass bubble.  He was already looking around, though we were assured that he was probably more high than coherent at that moment. 

Once again, I have to praise the wonderful staff.  I've just been so

thankful that Fox was born where and when he was, and with access to this level of treatment.  

Right now, it looks like we're out of the woods.  We were thrilled to hear that he might make it home by early next week!  We'll see.

The breathing tube is out.  Hopefully, tomorrow the stomach tube will be out.  And, maybe he'll be eating in the next day or so!!  And you know what happens when you eat...

Fox Has Arrived

Thankfully, it was an uneventful day, all things considered.

Per the schedule, Mommy and I woke at 4 am (by the way, this is a Daddy guest post – Mommy has other things to think about), arrived at the hospital at 5:30, prepped and went in for the C-section at 7:30. Fox’s official birth time was 7:50 am. We love our doctor.

The recovery room was also mellow. As Mommy waited for feeling to return to her lower extremities, Fox and I went through all the little baby tests (10 fingers, 2 eyes, etc.). For such a traumatic day, I was very impressed with his temperament. 

Sure, he got pissed when they stuck needles in him, but then, so do I.

He weighed 7 lbs. 14 oz. After the monster that Boba was (9 lbs 12 oz), this 

seemed small to us. But we found out that after adjusting for Gestation Date (Fox arrived three weeks before Miss I’m-gonna-take-my-sweet-time) Fox is actually larger. Doesn’t look larger, but smarter minds than mine say it is so.

He latched on quickly for his first feeding. He seemed to have quite an appetite. Which was good, as he skipped meals for most of the rest of the day in lieu of slumber.

After a bit, I followed Fox to his first sponge bath while Mommy went to her room. He didn’t care much for the bath, other than the warm water rinse after she washed his hair.

Fox and I then rejoined Mommy

 in her room and crashed for most of the afternoon. We tried waking for a few feedings, but Fox was pretty clearly having none of it – “Give me a break mom. It’s been a rough day. I’ll eat tomorrow.”

Boba and Papa and Doe arrived around 6. We have been anxious about how Princess Boba would respond to sharing her throne.

Wow!

She was in heaven! She kissed, held and poked (with reminders to be gentle) her brother and was soooooooooooooooooo excited! She kept talking about all the ways they were going to play together. 

In honor of his arrival, Fox had arranged a present for Boba (with Daddy’s help): two goldfish in a small bowl. She was very grateful and promptly named one of them Nemo.

And, this being our life, Daddy had to leave the family for his evening performance. As I left, Boba was bouncing off the walls with joy. When curtain comes, I will rush back to the hospital and hopefully, get this entry posted quickly.

Back to normal...plus one!

Jason has been bugging me non-stop about writing a "happier" post than the last one I wrote...and believe me, it's not that I have nothing "happy" to write about; we're PLENTY happy in the Boba-Fox household these days! (Hmmm..."Boba Fox"...either that's a new Star Wars character or the new name of this blog!) It's just that life, as always, has managed to slam my butt into "busy" gear, so much so that blogging has taken a far, far back seat from all the other chaos going on.

But no matter. Here I am now with a much-needed update. For starters, let me explain a what's going on with sibling-in-utero, FOX! Well, as of writing this, I am officially 12 days from my due date (July 26). HOWEVER - when I had my 20-week ultrasound, my doctor determined that my due date should actually be one week earlier, but since by their standards, one week difference is not that big a deal, they left the due date as it had been determined earlier. So either I'm at 38 weeks or 39 weeks...whatever, all I know is that I'm cooked and I'm pretty sure I'm ready to go.

Well, as some of you may remember, Boba was a whopping 9 lbs. 12 oz., and that was after being 12 days late. I developed pre-eclampsia (look it up) towards the end of that pregnancy, which prompted an induction, which led to an emergency C-section after about 12-13 hours of pushing. (I might mention that I tried to do this without drugs...and my advice to anyone who is considering that route - induction sans drugs, that is: DON'T EVEN F$^%!ING THINK ABOUT IT. TAKE THE DRUGS. IMMEDIATELY.) Anyway, the main issue was that she was not dropping, which is to say that she was too big for my pelvis to accommodate.

And guess what?? A couple of weeks ago my doctor takes the measurements of my belly and says, "Hmmm. I think this one might be bigger."

Um, WHAT??!? Bigger than 9 lbs. 12 oz., are you kidding me???

So, after discussing it with our doctor, we opted to schedule a C-section for July 18, one week and one day before my original due date. The way I see it, Fox was fully cooked by week 37, by most medical standards, so having him at week 39 is no big deal. Besides, for all we know it could just be week 40 and I messed up the date on the front end, if you know what I mean! And it gives me a nice deadline to get things done (not that things are done, mind you), and there is something strangely comforting about having a date of when your life is going to change completely, all over again.

Four more days! Yee-ha!

Okay, so that's on the Fox front. On the Boba front! (This is her blog, after all!) Boba has had a glorious month since her hell week with the kidney infection, and I'm happy to say that she is not just back to herself again; she has grown and matured some as well! At the end of June, she had her very first ballet recital at the San Diego County Fair. She and 4 other little girls her age performed "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" to an audience of fans and admirers. They wore little black and white tutus that were just so screamingly cute I could have died. (Except that I wasn't there. I had to work...one of the consequences of taking a week off to tend to Boba at the hospital a couple of weeks before.) She was a real trouper and did her jumps and her turns exactly when the music prompted her. Daddy was bursting with pride and took many photos for Mommy to enjoy...Papa (Boba's grandpa) took a video which I have watched 5 or 6 or 800 times. It is too darn cute.

Then, on July 5th, we celebrated her 3rd birthday...even though her actual birthday was not until July 10th. It was a blast - exhausting, but a blast! The whole thing lasted 2 hours and yet I was more wiped out for that than I was for our Memorial Day BBQ, which lasted about 3 times as long. (Well, I am more pregnant now than I was then, of course. But still.) We had about 16 kids and their parents, a bouncy-castle, a giraffe-print birthday cake, a ton of food and drink...what can I say, it was the first child's birthday party I've ever hosted, and I thought it went swimmingly. What made it all worth it was Boba's face when we sang "Happy Birthday" to her and she blew out her candles - it was as though she couldn't believe that all these people were singing just for her. And then, of course, there were the miles and miles of birthday presents that we opened...what can I say, Boba scored. It was a really wonderful week, and I say "week" because the celebration lasted up until the 10th itself, when we opened even more presents and had birthday cheesecake! From the Cheesecake Factory! Oh, yes...the 10th was just as lovely as the 5th, and perhaps even more so because there was less clean-up!

What made all of the last few weeks even more terrific was the fact that my brother and his family were in town, so Boba got to celebrate and party with two of her favorite cousins, Joaquin and Sofia. She just adores them, so let's just say that we wrapped up June and welcomed July with a bang. (Literally, as well...we saw fireworks on the 4th, which Boba was scared by, but she got over it once she could view them from behind the relative safety of a huge window.)

So, here we are, mid-July, at the cusp of our lives transforming once again and taking in the joy of the little girl who has made our lives beautiful and profound since her birth 3 years ago. In many ways I am terrified but in others I am completely thrilled. Thanks to everyone who has been a part of all of these changes - and that's pretty much everyone in our lives! Next time I post I will most likely have pictures of our newest addition. Stay tuned, and until then....much love and kisses from Boba-Fox and Flambo and Daddy!

XOXO

A long, dramatic, and overdue post

So - I don't even know where to begin.  The last few weeks I have seriously felt like I took a trip to hell and back.  I knew having kids would be an emotional roller coaster at times, but no one really told me about those times when you have no idea how to cope.  I knew they existed; I guess I was always naive and felt that we could deal with anything thrown our way.  In retrospect, of course, we were lucky; what happened was absolutely something we could deal with.  But there were moments of sheer despair, of imagining the worst, of wondering what life would be like if things took an unexpected turn...

Fortunately, luckily, blessedly, and gratefully, it never went that far.  Things rebounded and got better.  Much better.  In fact, it all seems like a distant memory now, and life is (more or less) back to normal.  Although, I have to admit, my perspective on things got a good tweaking.  

Actually, as I get older, I find myself facing more and more choices that further define the kind of person I want to be, and it can be very gratifying.  More often than not, I'm happy to say that I find myself in the company of people whose values I respect - even if they're different than mine.  Case in point: on June 1st my friend Karen threw me, in lieu of a traditional baby shower (which, as you could probably tell from my previous post, seemed silly to me at this stage), a Mother's Blessing.  I invited about 10 different women I knew, all of them mothers, and 8 of them participated in this very wonderful and special evening.  It was part-ritual and part-conversation, the ritual aspect being a portion of the evening devoted to each woman offering me their individual piece of wisdom, something they had gleaned from their own experiences of mothering, and as a token of their "wish" for me, a stone that eventually became part of a necklace at the end of the evening.  It was a touching and beautiful ritual that reminded me of a woman's capacity for strength and nurturing, and I was bowled away by the thoughtfulness of each of my friends.  It was both empowering and heartwarming.

The second part of the evening was devoted to conversation, where they allowed me to ask them questions, from "What are your thoughts on circumcision?" to "Did you poop while you were in labor?"  I think most people who haven't given birth, men and women alike, would have probably shuddered at the candid nature of our discussion, but it was absolutely marvelous for me.  I finally got all my demons out of the open, all my fears about what kind of mother I was and would be with my son, and what I heard back was the affirmation that while these thoughts and feelings were real and certainly understandable, they were ultimately powerless.  I sat there, basking in the love of my friends, knowing that despite my insecurities, I was capable of facing the rest of my years as a mother stronger and wiser.

It was almost ironic, therefore, that I would need to call on that strength so soon.  That following Sunday morning, one week after the Mother's Blessing, Boba woke up at 5am screaming crying and with a very high fever.  She kept complaining that her stomach hurt, and I noticed that her crying intensified while she sat on the potty to pee.  I immediately made an appointment to see an after-hours pediatrician, and got an appointment at 10am.  In the meantime we managed to get her back to sleep again, hoping the Tylenol would help whatever pain she was experiencing.  By around 7 it seemed she was feeling better....and then she started vomiting.  And then it felt like she couldn't stop vomiting.  I had never seen her like this - the crying was clearly indicative of some kind of pain she was experiencing, and while I was starting to suspect it was connected to her peeing, the fact that she was vomiting made me wonder if it was something else.  Needless to say, I was terrified, but thanks to Jason (who is the calmer and more rational of the two of us when it comes to these things) I was able to keep it together (for the most part).

We got her to her doctor, where she was lethargic and weepy, but still throwing up.  The doctor took her vitals and determined that it was some kind of virus, but I insisted on a urine test since I had suffered from UTI's before and knew what kind of pain that could be.  So Boba took one, and lo and behold, the test came back positive.  We were then instructed to take her to a hospital where she could take a blood test to determine the severity of the infection.  We did that, and after filling out the given prescription at the pharmacy, we got the call from the doctor (about 2:45pm at this point) that her white blood cell count was "borderline" - anything over 15 was high, and anything over 20 was severe.  Boba's was 19.  So the doctor asked if we wanted to take her back to the hospital to get the antibiotic as a shot, since we weren't sure if she would keep any medication down.  Well, at that point I felt that we needed to give the prescription a chance to work, plus the idea of hauling my poor sickly little girl back to the hospital was just too much.  I declined the trip to the hospital (which, TO THIS DAY I wonder if I made the right choice), and opted to stay home with her.  And that concluded Sunday.

Monday was a milder version of Sunday, if only because Boba was vomiting less and her temperature seemed to be low-grade.  She still complained of pain, however, and her energy level made me very concerned.  I remembered from the times I had a UTI, that within two doses of the medication I felt like new.  Well, she had had 4 doses at this point and she really hadn't improved much.  So I called our regular pediatrician, who suspected that the antibiotic the previous doctor had prescribed was not strong enough, so back to the pharmacy we went to get the new medication.  After one dose of the new stuff, she seemed almost herself again, save for being tired and still a little warm.  I thought we were on the mend.  I was wrong.

That night, at 1am on Tuesday morning, Boba woke up crying and vomiting even more violently than before.  We took her temperature and it was 104.8.  I called our after-hours nurse service (thank GOD for them), who, after hearing about Boba's symptoms and her last 48 hours, immediately instructed us to take her to the Emergency Room of Rady's Children's Hospital.  We did so, and by 4am she was hooked up to an IV and placed in a room for supervision.  We camped out as best we could - we were still in our pajamas, after all - and, not knowing what was ahead of us, we all did our best to get comfortable in the hospital bed (Boba & I) and pull-out chair (Jason), and slept fitfully for about 4 hours.

On Tuesday, Jason and I stayed at Boba's side as she was basically examined by a number of nurses, nurse practitioners, and doctors.  The main concern seemed to be the fact that the medications were not fighting the infection, as her fevers were spiking up to just under 105.  Plus, her stomach pain (which we suspected was actually her bladder she was referring to) had not subsided.  She received an ultra-sound that day, which at first examination revealed an "abnormality" (one of the worst words to hear as a parent) on her kidney.  It was determined at that point that the infection had spread to her kidneys, and the NP suspected that that was the reason the dosage of the antibiotic we were prescribed had not worked - the infection had advanced too far!  Well, hearing about the "abnormality" was the first time I had realized that this thing we were dealing with might be more serious than what I expected.  And it basically broke me.  Jason held me together, but I allowed myself about 15 minutes to imagine what this could mean...and then I stopped and decided I had to keep going with some faith.  Because the alternative was just too hard.

On Tuesday evening Boba took a CT scan to determine what the "abnormality" actually was.  While the scan itself was non-invasive and very fast, it was still somewhat traumatic (for me as well as for her) as it involved putting Boba under by a procedure during which the doctor & scan technicians wisely advise the parents not to be present at.  Suffice it to say, it was hard to go through.

By Wednesday morning we still had not gotten the results of the CT scan, so Jason insisted that I should go back to work for at least a few hours to a.) get me out of the hospital environment, and b.) to get things straightened out at work so that they could function without me for the next few days, if necessary.  So I went back begrudgingly, hating the fact that I had other commitments to take care of.  In retrospect, of course, everyone would have been fine had I not gone back at all, but in a way I was able to take care of things so that my absence for the next couple of days did not stress me out in the least.  And while most people at work were absolute champs and gave me nothing but compassion and support, there were a couple of others who were not so understanding.  Which leads me to believe: there really are some bad seeds in this world.  Really truly.

But I really didn't care about those people.  Not one bit.  So I went back to the hospital Wednesday night, and after spending some much-needed hours with my slightly-improved baby girl, Jason suggested I go home and sleep in our own bed, probably sensing how exhausted I was at that point.  (How Jason manages both crisis and his wife in the state of crisis so beautifully is a gift.  I married a very, very good man.)  We still had not gotten the definitive diagnosis of Boba's CT scan at that point, but I was a little more hopeful since she seemed much better than the two days before.  So I went home and slept.  (Collapsed into a coma-like state is probably more like it.)

But I am the child of two perpetually stressed people, so I wasn't quite out of the woods yet, well-rested or not.  On Thursday morning I woke up to a quiet house, which was a little disconcerting, but allowed me to to return to the hospital with no delay.  Except for one not-so-minor detail.  In all the hoop-la that had taken place in the last few days, I realized that I had not felt my baby move in my belly.  In a while.  In fact, I had forgotten the last time I felt him kick.  And kids, this one is a kicker.  So before I descended into flat-out panic (which was beckoning just ahead), I called my OB's office to explain the situation as I was driving to the hospital.  His nurse comes on the phone, and in a somewhat hesitantly cautious manner, told me, "Drive yourself to Sharp Mary Birch right now and check yourself in."  Well, crap.  As if I didn't already have more to worry about.  Luckily, the children's hospital and my maternity hospital are about 2 miles away from each other, so I drove there instead, parking the car and thinking, Oh shit oh shit oh shit.  Don't cry don't cry don't cry.  I managed to get myself to triage in one piece, and all this time he STILL hadn't kicked.  A nurse strapped me down on an examining table, and after waiting a few crucial minutes, another woman (who looked like she was 16 years old, NO JOKE) took the heart monitor and started looking for my baby's heartbeat.

Ladies and gentlemen, she COULDN'T FIND IT.

In the space of about 3 minutes, she slid the monitor all around my belly, and asked me to turn a couple of times before I finally burst into gut-wrenching sobs.  Oh my god, I thought to myself, my daughter is in the hospital and I'm about to miscarry.  The nurse finally stopped, clearly agitated by my response to the lack of the heartbeat, and said quickly, "I'm going to call in another nurse."  Immediately a much older and more-experienced seeming nurse appeared at my side, while I'm doubled over crying like a maniac, and she puts her hand on my shoulder in this gentle but almost authoritative gesture and says, "Honey.  It's okay.  We'll take care of you."  And she takes the monitor and swiftly places it under my belly, right above the pubic bone.  

And there it was.  Fox's heartbeat.  As strong as the day is long.  The relief in the air was almost palpable.

They kept me there for about an hour, probably to get me calmed down, but also to check out everything else.  In the meantime Jason was at the other hospital with Boba trying to decipher the frantic phone conversation I had left him with: "I haven't felt him kick.  The doctor told me to go to the hospital.  I'm going to get checked out."  He was able to track me down through an operator and I spoke to him on the phone, assuring him that Fox's heartbeat was indeed there and NOW he was kicking like the mad little fetus he was.  I think Jason never had a chance to panic, plus he was still dealing with Boba, so he was much more reserved when I told him the news that everything was okay.  I think mostly he was concerned about me, his crazy, unraveling wife who barely had any memory of the last time she ate a meal, much less that she was in a condition herself that needed attention.  Oy vey.

Anyway, aside from that whole debacle, Thursday was a very good day.  Our pediatrician had looked at the results of the CT scan and had determined that the "abnormality" was "mild" and would not need additional attention after all.  Plus at this point, Boba was very much more herself with each passing minute, and had even switched to eating solids at this point.  The "stomach" pain was gone, and her fevers were fewer and lower.  Best of all, we were allowed to go home that day.  Hallelujah.  I am grateful that we have such a good Children's Hospital in San Diego, but I was more grateful walking out those doors than through them.  I'm sure that's understandable.

So it's been about 10 days since we left the hospital, and after spending a couple of days at home, Boba returned to her friends at daycare on Monday, and both Jason and I returned to work full-time as well.  Life back to normal, it seems.  Well, except for the fairly strict drug regimen that Boba is on, but I'm not even fazed by that anymore.  Neither is she, really; she almost asks for the medicine at this point - that's how embedded in our daily routine the stuff is by now.  She is energetic, expressive, playful, stubborn, strong-willed - everything that made her who she was before the illness.  She is back to sleeping through the night and waking up at about 5:30am to join us in bed to sleep the rest of the morning.  She loves her girly-girl dresses, her white rice, her Elmo and her "Toy Story" DVD.  She is everything I wish for her to be.

It's such a lesson, though.  It doesn't take me much to look back on the last few weeks and realize how fortunate we are to be where we are now, how difficult it was while we were in the thick of it, and how empathetic I am to parents and children who suffer through this kind of thing on a much more serious scale.  Having children is transformative, but having to endure them suffering?  Nothing shapes your view on life faster.  Nothing reminds you more about what really matters.  Nothing is really more important.

I want to close by thanking all of our friends and family who kept up with us during that difficult week.  Your thoughts, prayers, and general good-vibes are so appreciated.  Jason, Boba, and I (and Fox!) are so lucky to have all of you, and I feel fortunate that we are surrounded by such amazingly supportive people.

And I also want to say that Jason is a godsend.  Both as a father and a husband, he proves over and over again what a jewel of a human being he is.  

I'll write more about Boba soon, I promise!  Although this one was a long one, right?  Well, it's one worth remembering.

STUFF

So let me preface. The last few months the nesting instinct that is so common in pregnant mothers has really kicked in. And what that translates to is an obsessive need to CLEAN, and to GET RID OF STUFF. Namely, stuff that I either a.) no longer need/use, or b.) is no longer useable. This has included stuff that belonged to Boba; namely, clothes and other miscellaneous items that no longer fit her or interest her.

This nesting instinct, though mostly innate, is also partially driven by the fact that we have a small house and therefore, there is not a lot of room to store useless stuff. So, one day I had the opportunity to sift through all of Boba's old stuff and divvy everything into 4 groups:

1. Stuff that can be reused by Fox
2. Stuff that could be given to friends who were having baby girls
3. Stuff that could be sold
4. Stuff that could be given away

(There is a pecking order present in this list that should suggest the quality of the stuff. For example, I would not give my friends a pink onesie that has been drawn on with magic marker, but since it was still perfectly wearable I was happy to donate it to someone who wanted or needed it. You see?)

And so, I went about giving stuff away. Friends received stuff that still had labels on them or had never been worn - and believe me, there were a LOT of those items - and a box labeled "Fox" was put away in a closet somewhere with gender-neutral baby clothes. We had a moderately successful garage sale in Mid-May (I say "moderately" because although we made pretty decent $$, there was still a LOT of stuff left over). I joined Freecycle.org and gave away bags of clothes to people who wanted them. And a LOT of stuff was given away to the Salvation Army and Goodwill.

And I felt pretty damned pleased with myself after getting rid of all that stuff.

It made me realize what out-of-control consumers we can be without even realizing it. It's no question how easy it is to buy stuff you think you need when you have your first child. For instance I got one of those super-cute shopping cart covers for babies, you know, for them to sit in while you're grocery shopping?? Only Boba hated it with a passion. She didn't want go near it. And because I was so obsessed with getting the "right" one, I spent something like $35 for it. Well, that was a wasted $35 because I think I actually used it - or attempted to use it - twice. After that it went into the closet and sat. So imagine my pleasure when I was able to sell it for $20 to someone who went CRAZY for it. I mean, CRAZY! She loved it! She knew her daughter would love it!

So anyway, this has been a long-winded way to say....I'm not really into stuff anymore, much less when it comes to babies. We have a lot of things that are going to be handed down to Fox, both in toys and clothing, so I think we're okay there....although obviously we'll still be getting stuff for him since he's a boy. I'll probably do more shopping at resale stores, though, knowing now how quickly babies go through their things. And fortunately, we have a lot of non-gender-specific toys that he can enjoy, as well as bouncers, swings, and the like. So I think we're covered, for the most part.

Which is why, when the topic of a baby shower is broached, I'm slightly uncomfortable. We're not registering for anything - although frankly I wish I could register for frozen lasagnas and maid service. THOSE are the things that will really help when Fox is born! But I realize that people just want to celebrate and share in the joy, and giving gifts is part of that tradition. And of course, I am nothing but grateful for all the people who love and support us.

So, if I can just throw in my two cents - and you're one of the people planning to get us something - let me say this: functional boy clothes (nothing fancy) or diapers would be great. And if you make good casseroles, well...those aren't bad either!

Before I finish, I'd like to mention that it was in this spirit of generosity and love and support and NO STUFF that I was given a Mother's Blessing on Sunday night. I'll talk about it in a separate post, but let's just say that it was really the BEST thing a mother could have ever received.

Happy Mid-May!

So, we've been enjoying the spring over here in San Diego...how could you not?? With consistently-fabulous weather, great places to spend the day, with family & fun abound - you really can't go wrong. Here are some shots from some of our latest exploits:

Oh, wait...this is not a "Happy Springtime" shot, just cute one of Boba hangin' in the kitchen. Like the t-shirt?? We appreciate the irony of it. But believe me, if she's 25 and still mooching off of us, we're going to show her this picture and say, "Yeah, you see this? It was cute then. NOT ANYMORE."

Boba has been taking ballet class! She is having a terrific time, except for the first day when she decided she would rather watch the whole thing from outside (only deciding to join them about 5 minutes before the class ended). By the second class, she was ALL into it. What I love is when she demonstrates her moves for us after class - is anything cuter than a two-year-old demonstrating a pas de bourre? Nothing, I tell you, nothing!

In late March we were lucky enough to join Jason's sister Sarah and her family in Palm Springs for a fun-filled day at the pool! Yeah, we only had a day to spare, but it was well-worth the trip. Here's Daddy & Boba hanging in the baby pool. Boy, did she have a blast with her cousins Katie and Emma! She made new friends, too - there were a lot of extended family members with kids there, and they made much of the sunshine. Thanks again, Sarah & Andy, for a great time!

Here's Boba after splashing in the Coronado seaside one Sunday, after one of Daddy's shows. I took the time to close my eyes and relax while she and Daddy were chasing after the waves - a luxury since my weekends are all about the Boba and NOT about relaxing - so that's why there aren't any fun pictures on the actual beach. But it happened! And it was gorgeous!

I just have to add that among the wonderful things we have to do here in San Diego are: visiting the San Diego Zoo (which Boba and I have done on several occasions, just the two of us - not easy to wrangle a toddler as a lone pregnant lady but FUN nonetheless), Sea World, Lego Land, Birch Aquarium, countless parks & playgrounds, the beach...and recently the San Diego Children's Museum opened near down town, and I am SO excited to check it out! I'm telling you, San Diego just rocks when it comes to family-friendly activities. Makes living here even more great than it already is, in addition to the awesome weather. :)

Can't believe it's almost summertime. Hope all of you guys are doing well too!

Oh, right, HI BLOG READERS!

I haven't forgotten about you! Let's just say I've been taking a break. No, I'm not crazy-busy, although work is work, and motherhood is motherhood, to be sure...I just feel like our household has been on autopilot lately, so there hasn't been much exciting stuff to blog about. I mean, other than:

1. The fact that Boba is as cute and entertaining as ever, growing into a very bright and special little girl who alternately drives us crazy and makes us fall in love with her exponentially; and


2. That this pregnancy has been rather lovely in that I haven't experienced all the crazy symptoms I had when I was pregnant with Boba...but I'm only 6 months a long, and 3 months provides PLENTY of opportunity for something to come and kick my butt.

The fun thing about Mini-Heil #2 is that Boba has named him, and it has seemed to stick. No, we're not going to formally give our son this name, but somehow it has felt very natural to refer to the basketball-that-is-my-tummy as this.

"Fox."

Somehow Boba has decided that her baby brother should be called the sly character in her books and cartoons who attempts (sometimes not-so successfully) to outwit the otherwise "good" characters in their respective stories. Does this say something about how she perceives her sibling? Perhaps.

Hmmm. Well, I guess all that remains to be seen, doesn't it??

In any case, we are doing quite well and healthy over here in sunny SD, and I hope you haven't forgotten about us completely, despite my lack of diligence in this here blog. I certainly haven't forgotten you, even though it may feel that way!

So, from Boba, Jason, me, and "Fox," have a fabulous Spring, and here's to more good days!

More Daddy stories

Some fun pix of Katrina riding her bike. The first is from nine months ago. Her feet can really touch the pedals now!

Katrina has become a big "helper". From cleaning the car windshield at the gas station to pouring milk to putting toys away, she pipes up with "I do it!!!" and chips in with her muscle and ingenuity.

She's also big on hugs and kisses. Which doesn't suck. Nothing like a good "I love you, Daddy" to wipe everything else away!

Guess what??!?!?

Some of you may not be accustomed to looking at ultrasounds, but even then, with a little deciphering, you can make out...

...a profile!

...and...

Hmm...how shall I put this delicately??  What you're looking at here is evidence of, well...

...ah, hell, I'll just say it...

IT'S A BOY!!

YEE-HA!

(For help on figuring out what ultrasound #2 is, imagine that you're looking at a baby sitting on a chair above your face. Yes, THAT'S the angle.  Hee hee!)

Daddy Post #3

Continuing with Daddy's hijacking of the blog -- lots more pictures and stories!

Boba and Daddy continued the holiday travels with an early 08 trip to Tucson to see Grandma Robin.

Boba quickly made herself at home and spread out all over Grandma's apartment.

A highlight of the trip was being able to swim in the pool at Grandma's complex.

Back at home Mommy tried out the new juicer with help from Boba. Our orange tree exploded in December-January and we enjoyed lots of homemade orange juice.

Elbow. You will note Boba burrowing up Mommy's sleeve to the elbow. She has done this since she was an infant. For some reason, pinching the loose skin over the bone brings her comfort. Of course, now she will call for it ("Eh - boh") when distressed, tired, lonely, or just bored!

Boba enjoys the wooden toy Grandma sent. Using the hammer, you knock the ball through the first hole and then watch it roll down two more levels.

Boba enjoying her new bear, which (loudly) sings "I'm Gettin' Married In The Morning" from My Fair Lady. She particularly enjoys accompanying the bear with bursts from her new train whistle, which she received at a friend's birthday party. NOT a quiet-time activity! Pardon the partial nudity, but sometimes Boba likes to walk around shirtless like Daddy.

Still to come: bike riding, the animals at the park and the sex of Boba's little sibling!

Daddy Update #2

Daddy will continue to write more soon, but I figured more than anything you want cute Boba pix. So, here you go!

Continuing with Daddy & Boba's trip to Ohio. While Daddy had a great time catching up with old friends Woody and Angel, Boba enjoyed playing with Kalon, Roan, and Mira at the Children's Museum. She loved playing in the man-made river, climbing the net ladder and being a vet.

More to come soon!